“The Dream is Gone” (a poem by KPKeelan)


It isn’t enough that I cry through the day-

now I must weep in my sleep?

My first blink of wakefulness finds my eyes moist,

my pillow damp-

but the dream is gone.

Does the mourning never end?

Where do these salty waterfalls spring from?

It must be a bottomless well of sadness

I draw from.

The sheer volume of liquid grief

seems more than this little body could hold.

Do I suck moisture from

the endless hurts of the world?

From this conga-line of disappointments?

This cornucopia of pain is always replenished.

The well never empties but is constantly refilled.

No amount of prestidigitation

can evaporate this soggy sponge.

No magician’s cleaver misdirection

can take my mind off

this slow, steady drowning.

Where is the full-body wetsuit I need

to shield myself from

this tsunami of sorrow?


© KPKeelan

(8- 22- 12)



About KPKeelan

Fool, Philosopher, Lover & Dreamer, Benign TROUBLEMAKER, King and Jester of KPKworld, an online portal to visual and linguistic mystery, befuddlement and delight.
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